


Fairy Tale Lies

by Cynthia_of_the_Wallflowers



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, First Meetings, Happy ending later, Heartbreak, M/M, Pre-Teikou Era, Sad, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Teikou Era, Tissue Warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-06
Updated: 2018-06-19
Packaged: 2018-07-21 21:42:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7405957
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cynthia_of_the_Wallflowers/pseuds/Cynthia_of_the_Wallflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's nothing like how stories say it will be, nothing like the fairy tales say it should be, nothing like anything at all. Soulmate AU, Angst, MidoTaka</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Kuroko no Basuke or anything in it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, I know I haven’t updated anything in a year. Or two. So...um, sorry? I won’t promise to update my other fics regularly or even anytime soon because I’m terrible at updating, and I don’t like to break promises. But recently, my muse has been either stuck in a ditch somewhere or jumping around fandoms too quickly to follow, so I’ve got bits and pieces written for every fic I’ve published and more besides, but not enough for a full chapter. So, yeah. Whatever. Don’t get your hopes too high for any of my already published fics. Be on the lookout for some new fics though, I’ve been dabbling in the KnB fandom a lot lately...

“My shots never miss.”

Kazunari freezes, heart stuttering to a stop. The green-haired shooter doesn’t seem to notice, already turning away as the ball swishes through the net and the buzzer sounds. The words, curved along the small of his back, seem to burn into his skin as he watches the shooter ― his  _ soulmate  _ ― walk back to his bench.

Kazunari had always thought he'd be happy when he finally heard those words. Ecstatic. Awed. He’s awed, yes, but in a terrible,  _ cold  _ sort of way ― the sort that comes with watching this prodigy accomplish the unbelievable, watching him jump like a rising tsunami, the ball soaring from his fingertips and across the court, impossibly high and impossibly long, watching it sink into the hoop with a swish, always always always; an unfeasible, unthinkable inevitability. 

He had always thought his soulmate would be someone he would like. Someone confident, someone amazing; someone he could introduce to his friends and family and feel proud of. Someone- someone he would be  _ happy  _ with. 

Right now, he’s so far from happy he wants to cry. He might feel better if he does. His teammates are ― Kazunari can see his captain trying to comfort their newest member, a first year named Ichiro, whose face is hidden under his towel, fat droplets of sweat or tears ― Kazunari can’t tell which ― dripping down his chin. This is Ichiro’s first game. From the slump of his trembling shoulders and shaking hands, Kazunari won’t be surprised if it is his last. 

“Takao!” Kazunari’s captain calls, exhaustion lining his voice, and Kazunari jerks. They’re lining up for the customary post-game handshake. Kazunari hurriedly falls in line. Beside him, Ichiro’s hands are still trembling. By now, the tears, if there had been any in the first place, have stopped. But there is a dullness in Ichiro’s eyes, blank and numbing, that makes Kazunari think that he might have preferred the tears.

It’s unexpected, when Kazunari finds himself in front of the green haired boy, his soulmate. But- this is his chance, isn’t it? To say the words that are no doubt inked upon the other boy’s skin, to let the other boy know that they are soulmates, perfect halves of the other. Kazunari holds his hand out mechanically, opening his mouth to say something,  _ anything, _ but- but-

“Good game,” he hears himself say distantly, and the words taste like ash in his mouth. He wants to say more, say something  _ different,  _ something  _ defining, _ but it’s all he can do not to choke on his lies. His smile is fake and plastic, brittle even to himself. The green haired shooter never even bats an eyelash.

“You too,” he says dismissively, and then he walks away. 

For a long long second, Takao can’t move, staring woodenly at the retreating back of his green haired soulmate. He isn’t even sure if he wants to scream or cry or just sit down, because  _ god how is this his life? _ This- This is nothing like how stories say it will be, nothing like the fairy tales say it should be, nothing like anything at all. Isn’t there- isn’t there supposed to be something?  _ Anything? _ Not just two strangers saying predestined words imprinted on the other’s skin, and then walking away as if it had never happened. Shouldn’t there be some sort of  _ connection? _

Kazunari doesn’t remember filing into the locker room with the rest of his team. He only snaps back into reality when his captain claps a hand on Kazunari’s shoulder. His captain smiles hollowly, humorlessly at the rest of the team. 

“Well, that was...fun,” the taller boy says. It’s probably meant to cheer them up, but, suddenly, Kazunari just- can’t. He can’t do this anymore. He can’t- he can’t watch his captain plaster on a false, plastic smile and try to cheer them all up when it’s clear that all the other boy wants to do is curl up and sob. He can’t watch as Ichiro trembles with blank, dry eyes, can’t watch the rest of his teammates putter around as if everything’s alright when they’re all a hair’s breadth from screaming, in anger, in frustration, in helpless  _ rage, _ because they’ve been crushed in a game in which they never even managed to be players, so uselessly  _ weak, _ not even good enough to be a blip on Teiko’s radar. He  _ can’t.  _

So he slips out the door to the bathroom. Ten minutes later finds Kazunari dry retching over the toilet, gagging as quietly as he can. Bile churns in his stomach, but nothing comes up.

His phone buzzes with a text as he sits back against the stall door, panting from the force of his heaves.  _ Where are you, Takao? _ It’s from his captain.

_ I’ll find my own way home. Don’t wait up for me, _ Kazunari texts back, before dropping his phone with a clatter, and burying his face between his knees. He takes a deep breath and then another, and all of a sudden, he really wants to laugh. 

His soulmate is a prodigy. A genius, with a form so stunning it’s unreal. His shots are incredible, unbelievable,  _ absurd. _ He’s an impossibility made reality, a player so far out of Kazunari’s reach it’s not even  _ funny. _ Which is why it is.

Kazunari scrapes his hands across his face, buries his fingers into his hair and  _ yanks, _ because it’s really really not that funny. Stupid. He’s so  _ stupid. _ What’s so funny about not being good enough for the other half of his soul? Apparently  _ something  _ is, because he’s giggling, quietly at first, then louder as the giggles turn into half muffled sobs, hiccups spluttering from his throat and only making him giggle harder.

He’s lucky no one comes in. When the giggles and sobs finally die down, Kazunari feels...tired. Worn out, and it’s not all just from exhaustion. He checks his phone again. Three missed calls from his mother and a text from his captain asking him to text back when he got home. It’s been almost three hours since the game ended. Kazunari drags himself to his feet, swaying as the blood rushes back into his legs and unlocks the stall door.

He doesn't remember how he got home. He doesn’t remember trudging up the stairs, or locking himself in the bathroom, or taking off his shirt. 

What he does remember is staring at his words in the mirror; staring at the elegant, green calligraphy along the small of his back, staring at the  _ my shots never miss _ penned like a damning shackle to a person he does not want to know, and Kazunari doesn’t think he’s ever hated anything more in his life.

_ (Mama, tell me a story!) _

_ (Well, how about this one? Once upon a time, a boy met his soulmate...) _

Kazunari reaches out and scratches a hand across his words. And again. And again.

_ (Soulmates are perfect halves of each other, Kazu-kun. You’ll see when you meet yours.) _

_ (Do they always live happily ever after, Mama?) _

His back is a rash of red and welts now. It throbs, and the green of the words still peeks through, but the words are undecipherable.

_ (Yes, yes they do. They’re your soulmate after all.) _

_ (You’ll have a happily ever after of your own too someday. You’ll see.) _

Kazunari takes one last look at the mess he’s made of his back and reaches for the medicine cabinet to wrap it up. 

He’s getting too old for fairy tales anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So apparently, I can’t write anything other than crack and angst. There is no in-between. This is written for cywscross’s Fandom Bingo. It’s super late, but...eh. I’m just glad I even got it out. This may or may not have a happier bonus chapter later on. But that’s up to my muse and work ethic.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good things come to those who wait.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hahaha fuck

Shintaro’s nine, the first time it happens.

“Good game,” The girl says cheerfully. She's taller than him, as most girls are at this age, a blue eyed brunette with a kind smile despite the fact that her team had lost the volleyball game.

Shintaro’s breath catches in his throat, freezing in the act of shaking her hand because she-

Shintaro is nine, the first time he realizes that words can change everything.

“Uhm,” Shintaro squeaks, not knowing what to say. “Yes, it was, I guess?” Instantly he cringes, because what kind of first words were those? But the girl doesn’t flinch, doesn’t even react, and Shintaro feels the first trickle of disappointment dripping into his heart.

It’s the first time. It won't be the last.

* * *

  _Sorry Cancer!_ the Oha Asa horoscope of the day chirps over his mother’s TV. _Today’s not your day. Maybe tomorrow?_

* * *

 The second time it happens, Shintaro is nearing ten and still wholly unprepared.

“Good game!” The other boy cheers, slinging an arm around Shintaro’s shoulders. It really hadn't been, to Shintaro, because baseball isn't his sort of thing, but it’s enough to halt his attempt at throwing the other boy's arm off.

“What did you say?” He blurts instead and then cringes, just like he did the first time. The boy blinks down at him. It’s surprisingly annoying ― Shintaro hoped he would reach his own growth spurt soon because it was not comfortable being shorter than half of his PE class.

“I said, good game?” The boy repeats obediently, slightly bewildered by the sudden focus leveled upon him. “Why?”

 _Because you could be my soulmate,_ Shintaro wants to say, but he knows the other boy wouldn’t have asked if he was.

“It’s nothing,” he says instead and he shrugs the boy off.

* * *

_You’re on the right track! Try something new tomorrow, like joining a sports team or a club!_ Oha Asa suggests merrily.

* * *

The number of people who say his words increases exponentially when he joins the basketball team.

“Good game!”

“Haha, good game!”

Midorima struggles to remember them all. He keeps track: the first a girl with a sparkling, warm smile, the second a boy with light brown hair and sad, puppy eyes, the third with ridiculously orange hair, the fourth, the fifth, the sixth, and then he loses track.

“Good game,” the boy says curtly as he shakes Shintaro’s hand.

“Good game,” repeats the next boy, and the next and the next.

Shintaro feels something small and heavy curl in the pit of his stomach with every handshake.

 _Good game_ , another one says, _good game_ , repeats the next, and the next and the next. How long does it take before they all begin to blend together?

Not long, it turns out. Not as long as Shintaro would like.

(Shintaro is eleven, when he realizes that he may never know his soulmate because he might never realize which one they are.)

* * *

_Don't worry if you don't accomplish your goals today! Good things come to those who wait!_ Oha Asa says.

* * *

“Are you- are you my soulmate?” He works up the courage to ask, just once, after a match that had gone particularly well, with his team barely coming out on top. It’s quiet. The other boy’s teammates have all piled into the shower rooms, and Shintaro’s teammates have as well ― it’s just them in the room. “Because- you-” He doesn’t know what to say. Why does he have to choose _now_ to be so inarticulate?

But the boy looks startled, and then something almost like pity flashes across his face, and Shintaro knows his answer before he even opens his mouth.

“I’m sorry-”

“No,” Shintaro says, feeling inexplicably bitter. “It's fine. I didn’t expect you to be anyway.” With that, he turns on his heel and leaves.

He never asks again.

* * *

(Shintaro is so _so_ sick of waiting.)

* * *

(He’s been through so many friends and so many soulmates.)

“Here!” He calls, and grins as the redhead ducks under an outstretched arm and passes the ball to him in a seamless bout of teamwork, exhilaration rising as he leaps, shoots, and scores yet another basket, pushing his team ahead. The whistle sounds.

(He's long since lost count, by the time he meets Akashi Seijuuro.)

“Good game,” the redhead says lightly, as they towel off their heads after that first practice match. Despite himself, Shintaro’s heart skips a beat.

(He'd long since lost hope, by the time he meets Akashi Seijuuro. But maybe- Maybe this time, things will be different.)

 _(Something life-changing will happen to you today! Be sure to seize the opportunity!_ He remembers Oha Asa predicting that morning.)

(It couldn’t hurt to try.)

* * *

(“Do you- do you want to hang out some time?”)

(“I’d love to.”)

* * *

It doesn't take long.

Akashi is _perfect_. He’s everything Shintaro could have hoped for and more: kind, and patient, and smart, and skilled, and calm-

“Checkmate,” Akashi says with a small, pleased smile, setting his silver general down with a decisive click. Shintaro stares for a moment, before conceding with a groan.

He's also a ridiculously talented shogi player and an insufferably smug winner. It shouldn't be as endearing but somehow, somehow, it _is_.

( _Love is in the air!_ Oha Asa says. _Your lucky item is something red!_ )

“Another game?” Akashi asks, as if the glint in his eye doesn't give away the fact that they both know the next time won't go any better for Shintaro than the past hundred. But Akashi's smiling, warm and happy and as insufferably smug as always and in the face of that, how can Shintaro do anything but accept?

* * *

“You’ll be my vice captain, of course.” Shintaro barely stops himself from jumping. He whirls around.

“Don't _do_ that!” Clearly _someone_ had been spending too much time with their new phantom player. And then Akashi's words register. “Wait _what?_ ”

“You’ll be my vice captain, of course.” Akashi doesn't miss a beat, falling in step with Shintaro as easily as breathing. Normally, this would make Shintaro smile, just a little, but this time, he's a bit preoccupied.

“I don’t- Why _me?_ ” Shintaro nearly whines. He had heard that Nijimura-senpai would be stepping down in favor of Akashi but he hadn't expected Akashi to do _this_ ! He didn’t even _want_ to help lead that pack of idiots! It was bad enough being around them!

“I need someone I trust,” Akashi says with a small, serene smile. He doesn't even have the decency to look embarrassed by his words. Shintaro splutters, beet red. “That’s you, Midorima. Will you?”

“I- argh- how can you just-” Akashi’s smile doesn’t waver in the slightest, and Shintaro crumbles in the face of it. “Fine!” Shintaro barely resists throwing his hands up in the air, the flush still coloring his face. Despite himself, he feels something warm and giddy curl around his chest.

(Maybe there's something to this soulmate business after all.)

( _Love is in the air!_ )

* * *

Shintaro falls like this:

They’re walking back from the convenience store one day, the whole team. Kuroko’s just cracked a deadpan joke, setting Aomine and Haizaki off, and then Nijimura-senpai, and, before long even Akashi and Murasakibara and Shintaro are drawn in until all of them are all laughing like fools. The popsicles are turning their tongues strange colors, the setting sun painting them all in shades of gold, and Shintaro looks over at the short, red haired boy laughing beside him, in between his own bouts of laughter (which starts up all over again when Akashi catches his eye), and he thinks: _I could get used to this_.

* * *

But all good things must come to an end, and Shintaro has never been lucky. Not in the things that matter.

( _Uh oh! Cancer is at the bottom of today's rankings! Be wary of changes in your relationships!_ )

* * *

“Akashi!” Shintaro stumbled into the room, searching for the familiar figure of his friend, his _soulmate_ (even if Shintaro has never been able to work up the courage to ask).

“Yes?” Akashi is sitting at his desk, the shogi board already set up for their weekly match.

“I just heard- Murasakibara-” Shintaro flounders slightly. Akashi looks perfectly composed. It's as if nothing had happened, as if none of the rumors were true, but Shintaro _knows_ that they were. “Did you... are you okay?”

“Of course I am. I won after all.” Shintaro’s eyes widen and then narrow. Shintaro knows the extent of both Murasakibara and Akashi's abilities. Akashi should have lost in an one on one match. And there was something about him-

“What happened to your eyes?”

“Nothing important. Atsushi knows better than to challenge me now. That's all that matters.” Akashi smiles placidly, but still, somehow, something seems...off. Shintaro wants to say something, but Akashi speaks before he can. “Shall we get on with our game?” His face is expectant now as he gestures at the board.

Shintaro hesitates for a moment, but Akashi seems fine, smiling, calm and serene, and in the face of that, Shintaro has never been able to do anything but agree. “Alright.“

(It's the first time Akashi pushes him out. Pushes him away. It's the first of many.)

* * *

Sometimes endings don't begin with a bang, but with a whimper.

“The new coach is inadequate,” Akashi observes neutrally, walking home after their first practice of their third year. Shintaro eyes him through the corner of his eye. He’s known Akashi long enough to know when he’s displeased.

“What do you plan to do about it?” Shintaro asks when it becomes clear that Murasakibara is too preoccupied with his popsicle, Aomine and Haizaki in their argument, and Kuroko in breaking up said argument, to ask. Akashi hmms for a second in thought.

“I suppose we will have to get rid of him,” he says.

“How?”

Akashi doesn’t reply. Shintaro tries not to let that bother him. It’s really not something he wants to know anyway.

(Shintaro doesn't realize how much Akashi has stopped sharing stories with Shintaro, has stopped including Shintaro in his plans, how even their weekly shogi matches have dwindled to silence under the pretense of concentration until it's far far too late.)

* * *

It’s another game, one of the many many games that have started blurring together in his mind, and Shintaro is bored. He wants to go home and sleep, maybe study a bit for his exams. He can tell, at a glance, that his teammates feel the same, though not necessarily for the exams part. Aomine and Kise are making faces at each other, daring each other to do more and more absurd tricks when the ball is released back onto the court. Murasakibara is scratching his stomach, yawning into a hand, and even Akashi is looking slightly annoyed, shifting from foot to foot, until the ball is finally put back into play.

“God-fucking- _dammit,_ ” Shintaro hears one of the, frankly, pathetic players of the opposing team, the point guard, curse with a gasp that sounds more like a sob as the game resumes. “Don’t they ever fucking _miss?_ ” Another one, the power forward, shakes his head and opens his mouth. He’s probably going to say something encouraging, something upbeat, no matter the slump in his shoulders and defeat in his eyes but-

Shintaro's _bored_ and he’s just so, so _tired_ of it all, so maybe that’s why he actually deigns to reply.

“My shots never miss,” he tells the boy coldly as he steals the ball and takes the shot, before turning back to the bench. He doesn’t need the swish of the net or the buzzer that follows to know that they have won.

(He barely notices the boy’s _good game_ , after the match. After all, he’s found his soulmate.)

(Hasn't he?)

* * *

Somehow though, Shintaro hadn't expected- hadn't thought-

“Why would we attend the same high school, Shintaro? Do you not remember what we all agreed to?”

“Yes, but, soulmates usually-” _stay as close as possible to develop and strengthen their bond_ , Shintaro doesn't say, because there's something about Akashi's face right now, cold and foreign and none of the warmth he's used to seeing-

“Don’t be a fool, Shintaro. I don't have a soulmate.” Akashi says, almost casually, and something heavy drops down into Shintaro’s stomach. He's known Akashi for too long to not recognize when he's lying about _something_ , but somehow, hearing him say that-

“But I thought- I thought we were- _you said my words._ ” His body feels cold, numb all the way through. The words across his palm burn like ice, frozen, like the cracks spreading across his heart. He has to clench his hands into fists to keep them from shaking.

Akashi looks to him, as if surprised. Shintaro doesn't hear what he says, the buzzing in his ears drowning out whatever falsely sympathetic words Akashi cares to make. He only has eyes for the smile: cold, crisp, and perfectly unruffled, tainted with just enough warmth to make it seem human, and he wonders, distantly, why he ever thought this monster was his soulmate.

( _Because_ , some traitorous part of him whispers, _he wasn't always a monster._ )

* * *

(Shintaro walks out of Teiko, numb. His face, stoic and unchanged as ever, feels brittle, like glass. There's something cold and heavy trying to claw its way out of his throat and something broken stabbing his chest every time he takes a breath. He isn't entirely sure if that wasn't Akashi’s plan all along. But that's alright. He knows better now. He was a fool to believe that he had found his soulmate anyway.)

( _Don't be a fool, Shintaro._ )

* * *

_Don't give up!_ Ohh Asa proclaims. Shintaro scoffs and, for the first time, considers ignoring it.

* * *

“Something life-changing will happen today!” the Oha Asa horoscope predicts cheerily, the morning of Shintaro’s first day of high school and Shintaro nearly breaks his frog figurine. He doesn't though, because obviously, he's going to need all the luck he can get today.

(After all, the last time Oha Asa gave him that prediction, he had met-

Well. It didn't matter anymore. He had made his views on the soulmate business _quite_ clear already.)

Still, Shintaro gives serious thought to skipping the day altogether. It's only his sense of obligation that drives him out his door.

(Years later, he's so so glad he did.)

* * *

_Good things come to those who wait!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this has turned into a three shot, with potentially more because now I have headcanons about this universe urrrghhhhh. Though if I write more than this fic, it won't necessarily be about MidoTaka. I actually have soulmarks decided for most of the main cast now haha (kill me now).
> 
> About this chapter: I never watched or read far enough into KnB so I don't actually know anything about Akashi besides what I've learned from wiki and fanfic. So if he's OOC that's why.
> 
> Also about Akashi: there's a reason he did what he did here. He was being cruel to Midorima, yes, but he actually has a sad story behind him as well lol. He was not leading Midorima on or anything like that in the beginning. For a time, he honestly believed that Midorima was his soulmate. Unfortunately I don't think I'll ever write his story because I don't know Akashi well enough to ship him with anyone so I'll just say it here: like Midorima, Akashi was cursed with a stupidly vague soulmate mark. His word (yes word) is “here”. Which, if you'll notice, is the first word Midorima says to him. The reason he eventually realizes that Midorima is not his soulmate though is because the soulmarks are written in the other person’s current handwriting (meaning the writing will start as an illegible scribble when the soulmate is a child and unable to write, then evolve into kiddie alphabet letters and keep evolving from there. So basically the easiest way to see if a person is your soulmate is to get them to write something and see if it matches) and Midorima’s didn't match. Most of the reason Midorima didn’t notice is because he was willfully blinding himself to that.
> 
> About the “bond” Midorima mentioned and “connection” Takao talked about in the previous chapter: it’s one of the headcanons (is it a headcanon if I’m the author?) I have. Soulmates will eventually develop a metaphysical bond that can allow them to do things such as share thoughts, emotions, etc. However, this takes time and trust to form. Takao was just misinformed because, surprise surprise, fairy tales aren’t particularly good references for this sort of thing. This headcanon will be expanded on in the next chapter, if I ever get to it.
> 
> The next chapter may take forever to write, just fyi. I’m not very good at forcing myself to update. I’m sure you all have noticed. Also romance is hard.
> 
> On that note: Akashi (and Midorima, but mostly Akashi) is fricking hard to write.
> 
> But yeah. Thanks for being patient with me! Most of the reason this chapter happened at all was because of the amazing comments you all left. Special thanks to five_lanterns (m_is_for_mochi) for their enthusiasm and help!! I wouldn't have been motivated to finish this chapter if it weren't for them.

**Author's Note:**

> Please leave a comment!


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